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Authors: D. J. Wilson
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two black and green teas down my throat, and a breve latte on
the way, I made it to the FedEx office by 2 p.m. Waiting for me was my first
box of clothes. Taking it to the truck, I unpacked the jeans and tees, as well
as a two hundred and fifty pre-labeled and postage paid boxes. I dropped those
thirty at a time in different post office boxes scattered throughout the city.
“Stop one is done,” I said to myself.
I
drove into the Old City for an early dinner at Sweet Fanny’s Pub. To my pleasant
surprise, Sweet Fanny’s was still thriving. This restaurant, I recalled was
decorated with a heavy touch of WWII memorabilia, including a Luftwaffe
Motorcycle. It became my favorite watering hole while working in Sioux City,
which now seems like a lifetime ago. This pub reminded me of a western version
of the Cheer’s sitcom where everyone there “knows your name.”
Burgers
and beer were what I remembered the most. After finishing a blue cheese bacon
burger and two twenty-ounce drafts, I was grateful to know they still lived up
to my memories. Maybe Candi and I could make a visit here before we head
west.
Not
ready to call it a night, I made my way to the only game in town, a genuine
floating riverboat casino docked on the Missouri River. After contributing $150
to the local tax base on the craps table and another $50 to the $5 slots, I
readily called it a night. Lately, it doesn’t take much to make me wind down an
evening. Besides, these small floating casinos don’t always offer much in the
way of food or entertainment. Once you’ve given away all you’re willing to
give, it’s best to find the door. I tried to do just that, before being stopped
dead in my tracks.
Before
I could make my way across the catwalk, up walked a stunning redhead I would
soon come to know rather intimately — Victoria. The woman dang near
accosted me. Well, accosted might be a stretch. She did grab my arm, however,
while introducing herself. Then she asked me where I was headed so early. After
all, she insisted, the night was still young.
To
get off subject for a moment, there’s just something about a redhead that
evokes pleasant childhood memories for me. The redhead of my youth was Pam. She
was eighteen and a freshman in college. Me, I was fifteen with a Black Honda
CB750 and a twenty-four hour erection. She loved to ride motorcycles as much as
I loved to ride her. Therefore, we traded out all through her freshman year.
That was a fine arrangement, until the Head Resident RA caught me leaving Pam’s
all-girls dorm early one Sunday morning. Seems the little brother story had
worn far too thin, and I was banned from her building for life.
The
unequivocal passion evoked by Pam, my first redhead, remained forever etched
into my testosterone-driven mind. Pam could and would go all night long, preferring
me to sleep. At fifteen, my recovery rate was about five minutes, and she took
full advantage of it. Thinking back, Pam’s breasts were always perky, her
nether region always wet. With each orgasm … and there were many … I can still
see and feel the beads of perspiration across her back, shoulders, and her
glistening forehead. Ah, to be fifteen again, ‘nuff said, I guess.
Victoria,
with her arm firmly entwined in mine had other ideas than me leaving. “Tell me
your name,” she insisted.
“D,”
I’m not sure what the letter D brought into her mind, but with that answer, she
whispered in my ear. “Do you feel lucky tonight, D?”
“Not
so far,” I confessed, “that’s why I’m leaving.”
Victoria
continued her whispering, “If you’ll come back inside the casino and play with
me, I believe you’ll find your luck may have totally changed for the better.”
Come
to think of it I had to agree, at least for this moment. A voluptuous redhead
whispering seductively in my ear — yep things could be looking up; and by
the current constricted state in my jeans; they were beginning to.
“Please
buy me a drink, D. You know
the way, I made it to the FedEx office by 2 p.m. Waiting for me was my first
box of clothes. Taking it to the truck, I unpacked the jeans and tees, as well
as a two hundred and fifty pre-labeled and postage paid boxes. I dropped those
thirty at a time in different post office boxes scattered throughout the city.
“Stop one is done,” I said to myself.
I
drove into the Old City for an early dinner at Sweet Fanny’s Pub. To my pleasant
surprise, Sweet Fanny’s was still thriving. This restaurant, I recalled was
decorated with a heavy touch of WWII memorabilia, including a Luftwaffe
Motorcycle. It became my favorite watering hole while working in Sioux City,
which now seems like a lifetime ago. This pub reminded me of a western version
of the Cheer’s sitcom where everyone there “knows your name.”
Burgers
and beer were what I remembered the most. After finishing a blue cheese bacon
burger and two twenty-ounce drafts, I was grateful to know they still lived up
to my memories. Maybe Candi and I could make a visit here before we head
west.
Not
ready to call it a night, I made my way to the only game in town, a genuine
floating riverboat casino docked on the Missouri River. After contributing $150
to the local tax base on the craps table and another $50 to the $5 slots, I
readily called it a night. Lately, it doesn’t take much to make me wind down an
evening. Besides, these small floating casinos don’t always offer much in the
way of food or entertainment. Once you’ve given away all you’re willing to
give, it’s best to find the door. I tried to do just that, before being stopped
dead in my tracks.
Before
I could make my way across the catwalk, up walked a stunning redhead I would
soon come to know rather intimately — Victoria. The woman dang near
accosted me. Well, accosted might be a stretch. She did grab my arm, however,
while introducing herself. Then she asked me where I was headed so early. After
all, she insisted, the night was still young.
To
get off subject for a moment, there’s just something about a redhead that
evokes pleasant childhood memories for me. The redhead of my youth was Pam. She
was eighteen and a freshman in college. Me, I was fifteen with a Black Honda
CB750 and a twenty-four hour erection. She loved to ride motorcycles as much as
I loved to ride her. Therefore, we traded out all through her freshman year.
That was a fine arrangement, until the Head Resident RA caught me leaving Pam’s
all-girls dorm early one Sunday morning. Seems the little brother story had
worn far too thin, and I was banned from her building for life.
The
unequivocal passion evoked by Pam, my first redhead, remained forever etched
into my testosterone-driven mind. Pam could and would go all night long, preferring
me to sleep. At fifteen, my recovery rate was about five minutes, and she took
full advantage of it. Thinking back, Pam’s breasts were always perky, her
nether region always wet. With each orgasm … and there were many … I can still
see and feel the beads of perspiration across her back, shoulders, and her
glistening forehead. Ah, to be fifteen again, ‘nuff said, I guess.
Victoria,
with her arm firmly entwined in mine had other ideas than me leaving. “Tell me
your name,” she insisted.
“D,”
I’m not sure what the letter D brought into her mind, but with that answer, she
whispered in my ear. “Do you feel lucky tonight, D?”
“Not
so far,” I confessed, “that’s why I’m leaving.”
Victoria
continued her whispering, “If you’ll come back inside the casino and play with
me, I believe you’ll find your luck may have totally changed for the better.”
Come
to think of it I had to agree, at least for this moment. A voluptuous redhead
whispering seductively in my ear — yep things could be looking up; and by
the current constricted state in my jeans; they were beginning to.
“Please
buy me a drink, D. You know
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